Ballad of the Highwayman
by jo-jo bruiser
Summary: 1985: Old friends, old challenges and a cat burglar.


The Ballad of the Highwayman  
  
Cagney and Lacey fan fiction based on characters created by Barbara Avedon and Barbara Corday. Please let me know your comments or reviews -Joanne siderius@netidea.com  
  
*To the rich man's bright lodges I ride in this wind* *Oh my good horse I call you my shiny Black Bess* *To the playhouse of fortune* *to take the bright silver* *and gold you have taken from somebody else* *The Unwelcome Guest* *-Woody Guthrie 1940*  
  
The sound of metal on glass set her teeth on edge. She held her breath and pulled the circle of glass free. She reached in with a gloved hand and opened the window. Now certain that the alarm had been disarmed, she rolled over the window sill and dropped quietly into the room- a dark figure moving through the dark night. Most people were predictable, she thought to herself -even those who knew better. In no time the pearls and other jewelry were safely stowed in her waist pouch. Not as much as she had hoped for but she smiled to herself - no point in being greedy - beggars can't be choosers. A shaft of light split the night as she lifted the bamboo blinds and left the way she had come. The white calling card left behind on the bed gleamed briefly in the light. The blinds moved slightly in the breeze and then the room was dark again.  
  
A dark figure moved down the fire escape - as invisible and as quiet as any other creature moving in the night shadows. She was high on adrenaline -revved by the danger and her own success. She threw back her head and enjoyed the soft rain falling on her face. She felt the urge to howl at the moon, but the New York sky knew no moon. She had hurled enough challenges for one evening. She turned and walked into the night. *** David paused to put a five dollar bill into the open guitar case.  
  
Chris Cagney and David Keeler are strolling down the street under an umbrella after dinner and the theater. It was common to hear street musicians in this trendy part of town, but the musicians usually displayed some talent. This solo guitarist was scruffier than most and sang loudly off-key. Bob Dylan without a poetic bone in his body and Mick Jagger the morning after - this guy was bad.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
That was a waste of five dollars.  
  
DAVID  
  
And here I thought you were a music lover, Sergeant.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
You're just encouraging him, David. He should be spending his time looking for a job - not offending anything with ears in New York.  
  
DAVID (the smile gone from his voice)  
  
He probably needed that money. (pauses) Have you ever looked for a job, Chris?  
  
CAGNEY (stopping and facing him)  
  
I have a job, David. And part of my job includes enforcing the noise bylaws. That is noise, not music.  
  
DAVID  
  
You're changing the subject. Have you ever looked for a job?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
After college. I was a photographer. And after the academy I became a cop.  
  
DAVID  
  
Chris. You told me your brother got you that job with the photographer. And graduating from the academy as a cop hardly counts as looking for work.  
  
CAGNEY (hands on her hips, staring daggers at David.)  
  
Now who's changing the subject?  
  
(She speaks slowly, as if to a child. )  
  
That guy is terrible. What he needs is a job. He should be looking for one, not tormenting innocent tourists. Or me. Or anyone.  
  
DAVID (adamantly, holding Chris by the shoulders)  
  
You're missing the point. It isn't easy to find a job, Chris. Not everyone was born rich.  
  
(Chris rolls her eyes. Here we go again. She removes his hands from her shoulders, steps back, folds her hands over her chest and waits for him to finish.)  
  
Chris, not everyone had their way paid through college. Not everyone has your gifts or your advantages. Can't you see that?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
What I see, David, is a bleeding heart liberal who only sees what he wants to see. Yes, I have a trust fund. Yes I had every advantage growing up. But what you fail to mention, Mr. Keeler, is what my family has contributed to this city - to charity.  
  
(rushing on before he can interrupt and raising a finger to emphasize her point)  
  
And what you also fail to mention is what I also contribute generously to charity - NOT to mention what I contribute as a cop. You don't have to be poor - or a damned liberal - to be one of the good guys, Keeler.  
  
(She is angry now . She whirls on her heel and storms away leaving him holding the umbrella. David looks at the ground, rocking on his heels, before he follows her.)  
  
DAVID (catching up and walking by her side. He speaks calmly, rationally.)  
  
You are taking this too personally Chris. I just wanted to point out that getting a job is not as easy as it sounds.  
  
CAGNEY (She is still upset. Her voice is pitched higher than usual)  
  
Yeah? Well next time don't use me as an example if you don't want me to "take it personally" OK David?  
  
A lively discussion continues as the couple moves down the street. Sparks continue to fly well into the morning. *** HARVEY (He is sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, reading from the newspaper.)  
  
Says here that "the Highwayman has thus far foiled the best efforts of New York's Finest". That's you babe.  
  
LACEY (looks up from baking to comment dryly)  
  
Nice of them to mention us.  
  
HARVEY  
  
Wait, there's more: "Sgt. Christine Cagney, leading the hunt for the modern day Robin Hood, was quoted as saying " It is only a matter of time until we have this thief in custody." When asked what progress had been made on the break-ins in Westchester, however, Sgt. Cagney had no comment to offer. Meanwhile, another ransom note sent by the Highwayman has resulted in a sizable donation to St. Michael's Shelter for Women. "  
  
LACEY  
  
Chris will love that. Makes this guy look like some kind of hero.  
  
HARVEY (folds the paper)  
  
You must admit, it's not hard to like someone who steals from the rich and gives to the poor, Mary Beth.  
  
LACEY  
  
Harvey! He's a thief!  
  
HARVEY  
  
But the beauty of it, Mary Beth. (Harvey hits the paper with one hand.) No one gets hurt. He steals some jewels, holds them for ransom. Demands a donation be made to charity and he returns the goods. I'll bet even the people he robs enjoy the notoriety, Mary Beth.  
  
LACEY  
  
Being robbed is no laughing matter, Harvey. Someone could get hurt. *** LACEY  
  
Oh no Chris!  
  
It was only 8:30. Mary Beth had arrived at the precinct early to catch up on some paper work before the day began. Chris was here already. Her partner looked like she might have slept here. Cagney is incensed.  
  
CAGNEY (reading from a small white card as she marches up and down by Lacey's desk).  
  
Look at this!  
  
Poverty is not the problem. Wealth is the problem.  
  
What the hell is that supposed to mean?  
  
(Throwing the card down on the desk in front of Lacey)  
  
LACEY (picking up the card)  
  
The Highwayman?  
  
CAGNEY (still pacing, somewhat sarcastically)  
  
Yes, Mary Beth, the Highwayman. My own little calling card. Isn't that special?  
  
LACEY (ignoring Chris' tone)  
  
What did he take, Chris?  
  
CAGNEY (finally sitting at her desk)  
  
My grandmother's pearls and some other jewelry I like to wear. I keep anything really valuable in my safety deposit box.  
  
LACEY  
  
Still, your grandmother's pearls. You'll get them back.....  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Oh yes, I'll get them back all right, Mary Beth. We're going to catch this guy - and hang him from his...  
  
(she notices Samuels standing by her desk).  
  
....smug little smirk.  
  
Good morning Lieutenant.  
  
SAMUELS.  
  
The report on the theft in your loft, Sergeant. (tossing a file on Cagney's desk)  
  
The press is having a field day, Cagney (waving the morning papers in the air) This guy just waltzes into your home and leaves with whatever he wants? We're the laughing stock of the whole department.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
(She is tired. She is also very cranky. Chris didn't leave David's until 4AM last night and she spent the rest of the morning dealing with the robbery in her loft.)  
  
We aim to please, Lieutenant - anything to keep the press amused.  
  
SAMUELS  
  
Cut the wise cracks, Cagney. Inspector Knelman would be only too happy to have me re-assign this case to someone else. Results, you two, I want results!  
  
LACEY  
  
Yes, Sir. *** They were, as expected, a nice set of pearls. They were probably worth a considerable amount to Chris in sentimental value. Worth, say, two thousand dollars to the mission on Main and Broadway? She smiled to herself as she replaced the jewelry. She only wished she could be there to see Chris' face when she read the ransom. *** She didn't consider herself a criminal. A thief maybe - and thieves had a long and distinguished history. However, she preferred to think of herself as re-distributing wealth. Taking from those who had far too much and giving to those who had far too little. To those who went to bed dreaming of food and thankful for a roof - from those who defined existence almost solely by the right to acquire. The rich may not be villains -many would have given, maybe even cooked, a meal for a hungry man or woman. But she had taken it upon herself to make sure they shared. She smiled to herself as she swung over the balcony railing, besides, this sure beat breathing pepper spray and marching in rallies.  
  
In a sense, all her other robberies had been a warm up for tonight. Tonight would be dangerous, but danger just added a little spice to life. Taking from the wolves themselves.  
  
She waited in the dark. Waited until the night deepened. Slipping onto the grounds had been the real challenge. The window was open. The very rich and powerful felt invulnerable behind their alarms and security guards. Especially the mistress of a family Don. The occupant of this room had perfected an air of extravagant security. She chose her moment and slipped into the room. There were only a few jewels to snatch, but then it was as much the act itself as the booty that motivated this thief. She had barely drawn two minute's breath before the card was on the bed and she was on her way to the window.  
  
Fate can be cruel even in our moments of triumph. The crash of breaking glass shattered the deep silence as she fell over the body and into the table. She had no idea it was a body until she found herself in the blinding light sitting beside a dead woman. There was blood on the body, blood on the floor and blood on her own hand.  
  
She was on her feet and almost out the window when the shots rang out. Glass shattered around her - the noise of the shot was deafening. The impact knocked her out the window - but not before she had seen his face. And not before he had seen hers.  
  
The night protects its own and tonight the dark swallowed her flight. She was another bleeding creature fleeing in the dark New York night. The hunter had become the hunted. *** His eyes were cruel and his arrogance showed in his every expression, in his every movement. He was a man who was seldom challenged. Tonight he had not only been caught in a murder but he had been challenged in his own home. This was personal. He would deal with the thief himself.  
  
As they stood there hungry I stood there whistling This land was made for you and me  
  
He crushed the white card in his hand. She would not be whistling for long. *** CAGNEY (she is beside herself)  
  
A ransom note!  
  
Receiving the ransom note had done nothing to sweeten Cagney's mood. They had made no progress in the case since the robbery in her loft and the brass was breathing down the detectives' necks. The rest of the day did not promise to improve.  
  
LACEY (very calmly - she is close to losing her own temper)  
  
Chris. You're taking this personally -  
  
CAGNEY (really upset)  
  
I wish people would stop saying that to me!  
  
(making an effort appear calm) It is personal, Mary Beth. This thief threw a challenge in my face. In my own home.  
  
LACEY (fully motivated now. She is now blocking the path Chris has been beating into the floor. The two women are face to face.)  
  
And it is working.  
  
(Mary Beth pokes her finger into Chris' chest.) He has pushed all your buttons. You can't sit still long enough to work this out rationally Chris, and I am tired of baby sitting your moods.  
  
(Mary Beth sits back at her desk and pulls a file from the pile on her desk)  
  
Now, I am going to look at all these calling cards again. There has to be a clue here. Are you with me Sergeant?  
  
(Chris is not mollified, but knows when she has gone too far. The cop in her takes over. She reaches for a share of the cards and sits at her desk. Her expression is still thunderous.)  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Fine, Detective. Let's just get on with it.  
  
LACEY  
  
Look at this Chris. Sent to that land developer - what's his name?  
  
CAGNEY (looks up)  
  
Phenopolis  
  
LACEY  
  
Right. Listen here:  
  
As I went walking, I saw a sign there, And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me.  
  
here to Congressman O'Riley  
  
Rich man took my home and drove me from my door and I ain't got no home in this world anymore  
  
and to Judge Manza:  
  
Why did your lawbook chase me off my good land? I'd sure like to know friend, I've just got to know!  
  
Chris! (as she picks up other cards and looks at them)  
  
Some of these are Woody Guthrie lyrics. I'll bet they all are.  
  
What about your pile?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
I don't know, Mary Beth. I don't listen to lyrics.  
  
(as she hands her pile of cards over to Lacey) I didn't know you listened to folk music.  
  
LACEY (caught up in examining the cards)  
  
I don't. Harv used to. Yes, I'm sure they're all from Guthrie. (separating one card from the rest.) Except maybe the one the thief left at your place. It's different.  
  
COLEMAN (He drops a memo sheet on Cagney's desk.)  
  
Cagney, A.D.A. Feldberg wants to see you two downtown. Says he has some important information on the Highwayman Case.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
He's never heard of the phone?  
  
COLEMAN  
  
Hey, don't shoot the messenger, OK?  
  
LACEY  
  
Thank you Sergeant. *** Assistant D.A. Todd Feldberg found many of his days very boring. He enjoyed his sparring matches with Cagney and Lacey. They found him annoying.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Fine, you've got us down here Feldberg, what was so important you couldn't tell us over the phone?  
  
FELDBERG (enjoying tormenting her)  
  
What? No thank you ladies? From what I understand, you could use all the help you can get on this case.  
  
CAGNEY (very impatient)  
  
Get on with it Feldberg.  
  
FELDBERG (drawing the moment out)  
  
We have an informant who has information about the Highwayman.  
  
LACEY  
  
And?  
  
FELDBERG (getting serious)  
  
He worked with Benghetti. Our guy was nailed in a murder rap, but is willing to make a deal in return for providing some information. Seems like Benghetti killed his mistress - our informant is willing to testify. We may not be able to convict on his testimony because he's a known felon who worked for Benghetti. However, it seems there was another witness - your Highwayman.  
  
(He picks up a file and hands it across his desk to Lacey. Cagney looks over her shoulder as Lacey reads.)  
  
Looks like your thief chose the wrong man to rob.  
  
LACEY  
  
A woman! Caucasian. About five five, hundred and forty pounds, dark hair. (looks up) Describes a lot of women.  
  
CAGNEY (also looking up at Feldberg)  
  
She was wounded?  
  
FELDBERG  
  
By Benghetti. He'll be out looking for her. Apparently he wants to pull the trigger himself. You want her and we need her as a witness, Detectives. (He leans across his desk.) Can you get to her before he does?  
  
LACEY  
  
She's wounded and in trouble. Maybe she will come to us. If she's smart, she'll know we're her only chance. *** Lacey is driving. Chris was reading the file but has been quiet for some time.  
  
LACEY  
  
We can check all the hospitals and doctors' offices, but they should have reported any gun injuries by now.  
  
Chris?  
  
Chris has been lost in her own thoughts. She picks up the police sketch drawn from the informant's description before she replies.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
I know who she is.  
  
LACEY  
  
What?!  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Yeah.  
  
(She puts the bubble on the hood and turns on the siren.)  
  
Get us to The Village, Mary Beth.  
  
LACEY  
  
You got it.  
  
(after a lengthy pause.) Going to share, partner?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Mary Riley. The message on my card - the description.  
  
LACEY (exasperated At least another minute of silence has passed)  
  
And?  
  
CAGNEY (looks at Mary Beth and then turns away again as she begins to tell the story.)  
  
We were friends. At Barnard. She was a political science major, always into causes, leaping to the defence of any and all underdogs. We were very different - we hung out with different crowds. But we made a connection. Laughed a lot whenever we were together. We liked the same movies, we both had a knack for photography. We'd spend whole days taking photos. She called it "documenting the story of a people". I called it good photography.  
  
(Lacey didn't want to interrupt. Mary Beth concentrated on driving, letting the silence stretch out)  
  
(Chris looks back at Mary Beth)  
  
She saw herself as a champion of the poor. I was a reverse snob. Anything to annoy my mother. A couple of rich kids acting out.  
  
(looking down again)  
  
She picked up a guitar and tried to earn her way through school by singing on street corners, and by waitressing. (smiling, remembering) She was a terrible waitress, but she could play that guitar. She really was quite good.  
  
We eventually lost touch.  
  
Anyway, Mary Beth, if I were looking for Mary, I'd look in the Village, and I'd look for a female singing old protest songs. Dressed in black.  
  
LACEY  
  
Why rob you Chris?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
A challenge.  
  
LACEY (looking over at her friend.)  
  
We'll find her before he does, Chris. *** The Village was not his usual territory but he had enough connections to find her. He wanted to pull the trigger himself. There were so few pleasures left to a man of his power - and tastes. He was not a patient man. *** It is a sunny spring day and the streets are filled with people enjoying both the sun and the atmosphere of the Village. Several street performers vie for attention. Musicians, magicians, jugglers, acrobats and even trampoline artists add to the colour, music and magic of one of the first days of spring. The two detectives were strolling through the Village, watching and listening. Isbecki and Petri are also in the Village watching for Riley.  
  
LACEY (grabbing Chris' arm)  
  
Over there.  
  
He was playing an old Martin that had the words "Eat the Rich" stenciled around the sound hole. He was so absorbed in his soulful rendition of "Deportees" that he was unaware of the two women flanking him until the blond spoke.  
  
CAGNEY (holding out her badge inconspicuously)  
  
Hi. Police. Keep playing. We're not here to check your license. I'm looking for Mary. That's her guitar you're playing, right?  
  
(He shakes his head, but keeps playing.)  
  
Fine, have it your way. But I know she's in trouble. Very big trouble.  
  
(Cagney writes on her business card and tucks it in his pocket). I'm an old friend. I'm going to be at that cafe on the corner at 4PM this afternoon. I've written the name of an ACLU lawyer on that card. He'll be there too. Mary will like that. She needs my help and she knows she can trust me. (She pats his shoulder.) Her life depends on it.  
  
(She turns to go and then turns back to him.) Oh. And tell her that wealth isn't the only problem.  
  
Lacey drops a dollar bill in his case as they leave. He keeps on playing until the two women are long gone. *** DAVID (exasperated)  
  
I just want more details, Chris. I can't help you entrap a suspect!  
  
CAGNEY (desperate)  
  
There isn't much time, David. Just trust me!  
  
DAVID (holding her shoulders)  
  
I trust you Chris. But we don't always agree on how best to help people, now do we?  
  
CAGNEY (speaking calmly and reasonably)  
  
I need you to go with me to meet the Highwayman. She has been shot. She is being personally hunted by a Mafia don. I set up a meeting for you and me to bring her in. If I don't find her, he will.  
  
(pauses) She is an old friend, David. Will you come?  
  
He looks in those deep blue eyes and wonders if she really thinks he could say no.  
  
DAVID (putting on his coat and looking at his watch)  
  
Come on. *** Lacey, Cagney and David Keeler had waited at the cafe for an hour before the musician turned up and took them to his room. Undercover officers were backup at various positions - on the look out for Benghetti.  
  
The room was dark and filled with books: the walls were covered with posters and photographs. The woman in the bed had a bandaged shoulder and was lying on her side. The musician had left but still no one spoke. When it was obvious that Chris would not be the first to speak, Riley smiled.  
  
RILEY  
  
Well Chris. You're looking good.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Mary.  
  
(nodding towards Mary's shoulder) Have you had that looked at?  
  
LACEY (she has her hand on Mary's forehead)  
  
You've got a fever. Did you see a doctor?  
  
RILEY  
  
A medical student. There may still be a piece of bullet in my shoulder. Bastard shot me in the back. Sounds like a western doesn't it?  
  
(nodding at David)  
  
You the lawyer?  
  
DAVID (holding out his hand)  
  
I'm David Keeler, ACLU.  
  
RILEY (reaching her hand out with some pain)  
  
You going to represent me?  
  
DAVID (moving closer to shake her hand)  
  
I don't usually take on cases without knowing more about my client (looking at Chris) but this is an unusual case. Yes, I'll represent you.  
  
RILEY  
  
(nods). I don't usually deal with lawyers without knowing more about them. (smiling) But Chris always did know the right people.  
  
CAGNEY (still standing, her hands in the pockets of her coat.)  
  
OK Mary. You are not safe here and we need to get you to the hospital. I'm placing you under arrest for theft. The fact that you turned yourself in and any assistance you offer in helping us get Benghetti will act in your favour.  
  
DAVID (interrupting)  
  
Just read her rights Chris. She needs a doctor.  
  
RILEY  
  
All business, eh, Chris? (she closes her eyes and rests her head against the pillow). You should know I'll give you any help you need. Deal or no deal. He's a murderer and deserves what he gets.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Not like a thief, eh Mary?  
  
RILEY (her eyes are still closed but she laughs)  
  
Just like the good old days. *** SAMUELS  
  
You heard me, you two, Major Cases will take over the hunt for Benghetti. You did good getting Riley, now let Major Cases do their job.  
  
LACEY  
  
Sir, couldn't we assist? (looking at Cagney) We know how to get him Lieutenant.  
  
SAMUELS  
  
Oh yeah Lacey - how?  
  
LACEY  
  
Benghetti doesn't know we have Riley, sir. We got her out of there on the sly. One of us could take Riley's place in that musician's room and wait for him. With a wire and the appropriate back up we could make it work, sir - we could nail him. The musician is eager to co-operate.  
  
SAMUELS  
  
Cagney?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Lacey has a great idea Lieutenant. I think it will work.  
  
SAMUELS (picks up the phone)  
  
(before he dials) I'll talk to Major Cases. But you two remember -Benghetti is an accomplished killer. I want no one getting hurt. You hear me? *** The room was stifling in the spring heat. They had been waiting the whole day. The musician had played his part, coming and going as usual, singing his songs on the street corner. They had spirited him away as they had Mary Riley - through the basement and out the next building into an unmarked van. Mary Beth was restless. This was the worst part of undercover work - the endless waiting while you tried to stay alert to every little noise. The window was open, letting in the light and every once in a while a refreshing breeze - everything seemed normal. Everything but the undercover cops outside. They had instructions to steer clear of Benghetti - to report his movements should he appear, but to make no move until he was in the house. Once he was on the stairs or in the room itself they would have him. Chris was hidden behind the head board. Mary Beth could hear her partner stirring at intervals. Both were wearing a wire. They were the only two in the room. *** Isbecki and Petri had him in sight. He was slowly walking towards the doorway. He bought a coffee and sat at the cafe table, watching. All units were aware of Benghetti's presence - just waiting for him to make a move to the house. *** Mary Beth and Chris were unaware of events taking place outside. They had no radios - radio contact - even the sound of static might alert Benghetti should he appear. They were relying on the rest of the team to do their jobs. Cagney and Lacey continued the interminable wait, nerves taut - waiting for a killer to appear. *** Benghetti knew they would be watching for him. He was far from stupid. But he wanted to kill Mary Riley and he knew how to get what he wanted. *** He ordered another coffee and some cheesecake. The undercover cops, including Isbecki and Petri settled down to wait. Petri glanced at the window and the doorway. Everything was in order. Peterson had checked in at the basement entrance. Everything was still under control. *** Bullets tore at the comforter, feathers flew through the room and settled on the rug. The silenced bullets met with little resistance but the dull thud of their impact echoed in the room. Benghetti walked slowly towards the still figure in the bed. Mary Beth Lacey reached out from under the bed and pulled his feet from under him. His gun flew from his hand as he fell. Cagney leapt hiding with her gun drawn and kicked his weapon across the room.  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Lacey! You OK?  
  
The words were hardly out of her mouth before the bed and curtains erupted in flame. Cagney was thrown back, her arms protecting her face. Benghetti had hurled the Molotov Cocktail and leapt to his feet in one smooth move. He shoved Cagney to the floor as he headed down the stairs. She manages to get off one shot before he was gone - pulling the door shut behind him. Lacey had pulled herself clear of the bed and bolted for the door.  
  
LACEY  
  
(rattling the doorknob as Chris runs up to join her) It's jammed Chris! He locked it.  
  
The room was fast becoming an inferno. Dense smoke poured from the mattress. The flames spreading through the room were fueled by air from the open window. Billows of flame blocked any escape through the window. Both detectives are coughing, choking, finding it difficult to breath. They lie on the ground, gasping - their lungs struggling for the air being sucked under the door. They are trapped. *** The sound of shots echoes through the radio in the detective car. The man they had mistaken for Benghetti is still calmly sitting at the cafe table as detectives erupt from all over the square heading for the upstairs room. Officers grab the decoy and read him his rights as he tries to flee. Benghetti himself is nabbed as he tries to leave as he had entered - through the basement door past the body of Officer Peterson. *** Isbecki and Petri make way for the firefighters running up the stairs. The detectives have been unable to break the door down - the heat has driven them back. The door is down within seconds - flames and smoke pour from the room. *** Both women were unconscious, but still alive by the time firefighters reached them. Now they were lying in the same hospital room, recovering from smoke inhalation. Both were smiling, but were too tired to enjoy the accolades and concern from colleagues, friends and family. Long before visiting hours were over both were sound asleep. *** LACEY  
  
From Mary Riley?  
  
CAGNEY (reading the letter Coleman has delivered)  
  
She is teaching literacy classes and helping women with appeals and petitions to the parole board.  
  
(folding the letter) That's Mary.  
  
(looking up at Mary Beth)  
  
She's asked me to bring her guitar.  
  
LACEY  
  
Are you going to visit her?  
  
CAGNEY  
  
Maybe.  
  
LACEY  
  
You should talk to her, Chris.  
  
CAGNEY (smiling a little)  
  
Maybe *** The old Martin was in perfect tune. Its resonance drew lyrics from her heart that tumbled from her fingers and onto the paper. Her anger and compassion had compelled her to champion the powerless and had made her a thorn in the side of the rich. Finally she had flaunted the law. Like a moth to the flame she had challenged them to pull her down and clip her wings. They had answered with these bars. There were decisions - and a bullet in the back - that she regretted, but she felt no shame in becoming a thief. She had known the cost and was willing to pay it. She hummed as she played the familiar chords. There were always songs and stories that told the truth and there were always people who listened. Bars could change none of that. Two years, even in minimum security, was a long time. Mary smiled wryly. But you can write a lot of songs and tell a lot of stories in two years. *** He was ready to leave for the night. It was cold. The only one on the street was that classy blond who had just left Flannery's. No chance she'd leave him anything. She never did. He was packing up to go when she walked by without giving him a glance. He looked up in surprise when she spoke.  
  
Here.  
  
She handed him a twenty and marched on before he could even say thank you. His whole evening took on new life. He could order the hot chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy that he'd been lusting after for the past few days. Drink some decent coffee and have enough money left over for tomorrow. That and a roof over your head. What more did anyone need? He whistled as he walked down the street. Cagney heard him as she waited for a cab. Thank God the man whistled better than he sang. 


End file.
